


The Snow Cone Apocalypse

by AutumnMooncakes



Category: the penguins of Madagascar
Genre: Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25258135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnMooncakes/pseuds/AutumnMooncakes
Summary: Kowalski creates a snow cone machine that overwhelms New York City. Based on the ending of The Penguins of Madagascar season 2 episode 2 'It's About Time'. One-shot.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	The Snow Cone Apocalypse

“Are you finally going to finish your snow cone machine this time?” Skipper asked Kowalski.  
Kowalski was half inside his workshop, about to close the door. “I am definitely optimistic that I will!” he said. “I believe I’ve finally found the perfect recipe.”  
“That’s what you said last time,” said Skipper. “You’ve been working on this for …” He looked at Private. “How long has he been working on this?”  
“Years, I reckon,” Private answered.  
Rico nodded, frowning.  
“I’m constantly refining my ideas,” said Kowalski.  
“It’s just a snow cone machine,” said Skipper. “Hundreds of people have made them before.”  
Kowalski groaned. “There’s no point in doing something that other people have done before! I have to conceive something new and fresh! That’s the whole point of innovation!”  
“But why is it taking so long?” Private asked.  
Rico grunted in agreement.  
“All snow cones are made from ordinary ice cubes and the same flavors and syrups over and over again!” said Kowalski, pressing his flippers against his temples. “If I’m ever going to make a name for myself in the snow cone industry, I’ll have to do something no one has done before!” He slammed his workshop door, making the whole HQ shake. 

Kowalski’s door flew open. “It’s ready!”  
The penguins filed into Kowalski’s workshop, beaks open. The machine was nearly twice as large as them, complete with machinery, a spout, and a glass container.  
“Behold the Frosticone Maker!” Kowalski cried. “A fully-automated, self-powering, one-of-a-kind snow cone maker! It even has coneholders.”  
“You actually finished it!” Private clapped his flippers together. “Can I have the first lick?”  
“Of course you can!” said Kowalski. “As soon as I gather the ingredients for the ice and the syrup.”  
Private’s face fell.  
“Then let’s go out and get some,” said Skipper. “I know just the -”  
“I can’t just use any old snow cone mixture!” Kowalski interrupted. “This baby requires special ingredients!”  
Skipper sighed.  
“The good news is, we only need a little of it.” Kowalski patted the machine. “Then this baby will be able to create my personalized ice-and-syrup mixture on its own!”  
“The ice comes with the syrup?” Private asked.  
“Mm-hmm,” said Kowalski. “Which means it only has to be filled once. Once we’re done, we’ll be able to throw the biggest snow cone party ever!”

Before long, the penguins returned to the zoo with a handful of specially-processed ice blocks and a test tube of custom-made syrup. Kowalski shook them into the machine and flipped the switch.  
The blades made quick work of the ice, and the flavored shavings fell into the glass container like red, blue, and yellow snow. A pair of mechanised scoops then formed perfect spheres from the ice and deposited each one on the top of the paper cones.  
Kowalski grabbed two cones as the machine was still working. “Who’s ready for the first taste?”  
Private gave one of the cones an eager lick and squealed. “It’s brilliant!”  
Rico stuffed the entire other cone into his mouth. “Snow cones!”  
Skipper tasted the third cone, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “I … I have no words. You really outdid yourself this time, Kowalski.”  
Kowalski smiled with his flippers on his hips. “Thank you, sir.”  
“Let’s get word out to the entire zoo!” Private cried. 

Before long, all the animals were gathered around the penguin’s habitat. The Frosticone Maker was so fast, they didn’t have to wait, even if they wanted double or triple scoops. The four penguins formed a chain from the machine to the entrance in their ceiling. The other zoo residents were either on the block of ice or outside the fence.  
“Now we don’t have to leave the zoo to get snow cones!” said Marlene cheerfully.  
Once everybody had their cones, the penguins came out of their HQ. Private was already on his third cone.  
“Are you planning to make more machines?” Darla asked Kowalski. “You could make a lotta money with that thing.”  
“That’s an amazing proposition!” said Kowalski.  
A crackling sound came from beneath them.  
“What’s that noise?” Marlene asked.  
Kowalski jumped back down into the penguins’ HQ. The other penguins followed.  
Ice was spouting out of the Frosticone Maker from every crevice. The machine was shaking violently.  
“The machine has gained sentience!” Skipper shouted.  
“This … this is impossible!” said Kowalski, seizing his clipboard and pencil. “The ice is multiplying at an increasing rate!”  
“Run!” Private yelled.  
The penguins fled, screaming. Before long, the penguin habitat was covered with ice.  
Marlene tried to run towards the penguins, but she lost her footing and was carried away by the shavings. Mason and Phil had scrambled up their tree. Joey, Bada and Bing were screaming about smashing Kowalski’s machine. The penguins took refuge in the souvenir shop.  
“We can’t stay on the ground, we’ll be buried!” said Private, who was curled into a ball.  
“Kowalski, options!” Skipper barked.  
“432 Park Avenue is the second tallest building in the city and the closest tall building to the zoo,” said Kowalski, scribbling on his clipboard. “That should be our best bet.”  
“Perfetto. Full evacuation! Let’s go!”  
The zoo animals stampeded the city streets, with the penguins leading the way. The zoo staff were too busy saving themselves to care.  
Everyone in the 432 Park Avenue lobby scattered when they saw the animals. Bada and Bing held the elevators open for all of them. Outside, ice was coming down the street like a tidal wave.  
Once out of the elevator on the top floors, some of the animals broke down the doors of the apartments and penthouses, but the penguins scrambled into a room without windows. They then cowered in a corner and covered their heads. People were screaming, car alarms were blaring and glass was shattering.  
After what seemed like hours, there was silence. The penguins joined the other animals and hesitatingly looked out the windows.  
It was as if they were looking at a layer of red, yellow and blue clouds. Only the tops of the skyscrapers were visible above the ice shavings. Many of their roofs were wrecked, and some of them were slanted to the side.  
Kowalski’s face crumpled up. “This means our home is …”  
A small sniffle came from Private. Rico wailed.  
Kowalski turned to Skipper, expecting a scolding, but the penguin leader turned and walked out the door as if he was in a trance.  
They climbed out the window on the snow cone surface. A gust of wind blew ice shavings past them.  
“It’ll melt, right?” said Private hopefully.  
Except for the animals’ footsteps, there was no sound at all. No traffic or chatter. New York City was dead. The animals dispersed, going in different directions.  
Rico came out of his stupor. He coughed up some paper cones and scooped up the ice on the ground.  
Skipper didn’t seem to notice. He just kept walking mechanically. The other penguins followed.  
They didn’t know how long they walked, but they eventually found themselves as the Statue of Liberty. The majestic statue was tilted, with snow cone mixture draped across it like a scarf.  
That’s when Skipper finally broke. “Kowalski! You maniac!” He fell to his knees and beat the ground. “You did it. You finally, really did it.”  
“Yeah.” Kowalski scooped up some of the mixture with a paper cone. “But you gotta admit, these are good snow cones.”  
Skipper got up and grabbed the cone. “Oh, sure. Totally worth it.” He began licking the cone with glee.  
“Who knows?” said Kowalski. “Perhaps this will reflect enough heat back into the atmosphere to curb the effect of the urban heat island.”  
“If the ice has stopped multiplying,” said Private between licks, “does that mean your machine is broken?”  
“It’s for the best, I suppose,” said Kowalski. “But it will take time for us to tunnel through this and find our HQ again.”  
“It wouldn’t do us any harm to just stay in 432 Park Avenue,” said Skipper. “It’s got indoor pools and heated bathrooms.”  
“That is a reasonable alternative.”  
Skipper patted Kowalski. “Look on the bright side, Kowalski. You wanted to make a name for yourself in the snow cone industry, and you definitely did.”  
“Snow cones!” Rico shouted.


End file.
